Dweller on the Threshold
by myelevencents
Summary: Sequel to 'Going Once, Going Twice.' House kicks himself for missing his chance with Cuddy especially when another man takes interest in her. Featuring Jealous!House, the PI and the meddling of Wilson and Gladys. Fun fluff. Takes place in S5.
1. Preface

**Dweller on the Threshold**

_I'm a dweller on the threshold_

_And I'm waiting at the door_

_And I'm standing in the darkness_

_I don't want to wait no more_

* * *

**Author's Note**

This story is a continuation of my previous fic, "Going Once, Going Twice." You don't have to read it to read this one, but this fic will probably make a lot more sense if you do. It also features a very minor spoiler for Season 5, but if you've seen the extended promo then you'll be fine.

A quick note about the story/chapter title(s)-- I'm a big fan of Van Morrison. I know not everyone is (although most people I know love 'Brown Eyed Girl' even if they've never heard another one of his songs). I know Laurie likes him and I'm pretty sure that House would, too-- Van writes his music and plays several instruments (alto/tenor sax, guitar, keyboards, drums, even the ukulele) just like the doc does. Each chapter is directly inspired in part by the lyrics/music of the particular Morrison song it is named after. Really, the songs kind serve as my mood music as I write the chapter, but knowledge of them is in no way necessary to enjoy/read the story. That said, I always suggest a little Van (even if he does love to use back-up singers), so if you're interested you should check his music that you might not have heard. I hope those of you who do like him will get a kick out of the use of the songs and those who don't won't be bothered by the use.

Cheers and thanks for reading!


	2. What Would I Do?

**Author's Note (Part One): **Hi, guys! Sorry it took sooo long for me to get this up. I had a major computer malfunction (my external hard-drive with all my everything, including the original version of this story, was inaccessible), so I had to rewrite this whole chapter. If you have, thanks for following me! Regardless, thanks for reading! Had to put some medical stuff in this one (all researched on Wikipedia and random websites), so if it's totally off, please forgive me. Characters and places and pretty much everything you love have nothing to do with me-- it's all Dave's. But I do hope you like what I've done with them.

* * *

**What Would I Do?**

_What would I do without you to see me through?_

_What would I do?_

* * *

She couldn't remember most of what she said. She and Wilson had barged into the conference room, panting (though they covered it well), to the complete surprise and dismay of Dr. Thewlis. He complained about their tardiness, though they were late only by two minutes, before launching into a dramatic speech about ethics, morality, professionalism and basic human decency. It was pompous, ridiculous and long-winded, though not completely without merit.

Cuddy and Wilson spent the better part of his diatribe exchanging looks that ranged from worried to incensed to confused. Most members of the board were aware that Thewlis had an axe to grind with House-- he had made it no secret that he lusted after Thewlis' wife and daughter, thought Thewlis was a mediocre doctor and, worst of all, he had informed the entire hospital about Thewlis' erectile dysfunction after finding a prescription for Viagra in the pharmacy with his name on it. Thewlis did himself no favors by focusing much of his speech on the personal slights he had experienced rather than House's professional problems.

True, the board was wary to say the least that two doctors had been arrested and the charges had not been dropped, but Cuddy was able to smooth things over. She told the usual line of how results mattered in these circumstances more than the lack of adherence to protocol and House's offensive actions.

"He is the best, not only at this hospital, but in his field. If something were wrong with me, if I suffered from some mysterious illness that no doctor could diagnose, I would go to House. I would trust him to save my life. And if you would go to him, if you would ask him to help heal you, knowing what you do about his attitude and the way he practices, then you know I cannot fire him. He is too much of an asset to this hospital to strip him of his tenure and toss him out the front door." Wilson beamed at her, obviously he had approved of her words. Evidently, most of the board agreed-- three out of ten voted to force Cuddy's hand.

It was a victory, but only a small one. In less than 24 hours she would be having lunch with the president of the university and House had yet to diagnose Mr. Shauer. If the team hadn't solved the puzzle by noon, then she would be forced to go to her meeting without any good news. The president was already watchful of her relationship with House, if it appeared that she was glossing over his infractions with only slap on the wrist and without any resolution to the mess he had gotten the hospital into it did not bode well for the security of her job.

Unfortunately, she could not concentrate on the potentially disastrous outcome the arrests could have on her hospital and her career; she had no interest in anticipating questions she might receive and formulating clever responses. On the contrary, as she sat at her desk all she could think about was House and chemistry and if... if... if... if... if...

* * *

"Kutner and I should really be going. We're late for our meeting with Dr. Cuddy," Taub said, checking his watch.

"This is more important. This will keep you out of jail. Besides, she's busy," House said testily, dismissing Taub. "Now, what else could be causing these symptoms?"

"There isn't anything else. We tested for everything," Thirteen replied, unaffected by her boss' terrible mood.

"There has to be something else. You know how I know? He's not cured yet."

"What do you suggest?" Foreman asked him, eyebrows raised inviting an answer.

"Someone having an epiphany and soon before these two lumps," he pointed his cane at Kutner and Taub, "are sent up the river and the rest of are fired."

"As much as I would love for one of us to become psychic, I think it's more likely..." Taub didn't finish his thought as he was distracted by the entrance of Wilson and House's personal PI, who no one but House was excited to see.

"What's he doing here?" Kutner frowned, nodding to the detective.

"I asked him to come. I needed someone around here who could do their job," House retorted before turning his attention to Wilson. "Did they can me?"

"Cuddy did some dancing; you're safe for the moment. I take it you haven't solved the mystery yet since I ran into Douglas in the hall."

"Call me Lucas," the PI told Wilson.

"I thought Cuddy said no to the whole private investigator thing," Wilson said, a look of warning in his eyes.

"She did." Thirteen replied.

"And, if I remember correctly, when she made that ruling she was referring to this investigator specifically," Foreman added.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to hire someone else to break into the patient's home? If he finds out I don't think it will cause him extend any good will toward Kutner and I," Taub complained.

"It'd make things worse for us especially if we can't diagnose him," Kutner agreed. "Plus, Cuddy said no, so it's not like the hospital will pay for his services."

"Yes, Cuddy said no, but that was before half of my team was arrested for breaking and entering. Now that you have all been banned from infield research, I had to find someone to get the job done. And rather than firing the three of you and hiring competent doctors, I decided to pay Lucas to sniff around. Now if you're done questioning my decisions, maybe you two jailbirds can go check on the patient and suck up to him."

"I'm going to clear this with Cuddy," Foreman said following Kutner and Taub as they left the conference room.

"Fine, go tell mommy. She knows where to find me when she gets ready to give me my spanking," House called after him. Foreman shook his head and continued down the hall.

House turned his attention to Douglas, "What did you find?"

The PI tossed his duffel bag on the conference room table and unzipped it. "I got that mold sample you wanted," he said, pulling out a plastic bag with a couple of swabs in it.

"Take the swabs and identify the fungus," House said, addressing Thirteen, eyes still on the plastic bag.

"Are you asking me?" she said, furling her eyebrows.

"No, I'm asking the other bi-sexual, Huntington's-ridden doctor in the room."

She exhaled sharply and snatched the bag from Lucas before leaving the room in a worse mood than when she entered.

"Please tell me you found something else because we already tested for aspergillus and found nothing."

"Then why did you send Thirteen to test the swabs?" Wilson asked curiously.

"Because I was tired of looking at her."

"Yes, I can understand that. She's so ugly," Wilson replied sarcastically.

"She's okay, but she's no Dr. Cuddy," Douglas said, pulling out a few more plastic bags from his duffel. House and Wilson both narrowed their eyes at the investigator; Wilson quickly turned his head to study House and saw the irritation on his face before his friend had a chance to cover it up.

"She is hot," Wilson said, smiling at House, who rolled his eyes at the comment.

"Hot and evil," House replied, Douglas laughed. "What else did you bring me?"

"Not much. Just a moldy bag of bread and a couple old bottles of cleaner that were kept in the cabinet above his sink."

House groaned, "There was nothing else out of the ordinary?"

"Guy seems pretty normal, even his porn in mild-mannered. Most interesting thing about him was that he really likes beer."

"Who doesn't?" House replied.

"He had more beer than he had food. All different kinds from all over the world. He even made his own beer."

"He made his own beer?" Wilson asked unnecessarily.

"Yeah, he had one of those expensive beer-making machines so he can make his own brew. Talk about obsessive."

"Did you see any ingredients stored around the equipment?" House questioned, lost in thought.

"There was some stuff, but I don't know what it was."

"Describe it."

"Green things in jars and then bags of something that looked like dark brown wheat grain."

"Hops and barley malt," House muttered, shaking his head, inwardly reprimanding himself for not thinking of it sooner. "It explains the rash, red eyes, fever, vomiting, bleeding skin and fever dreams."

"What does?" Wilson asked expectantly.

"He's got epoxitrichothecene poisoning."

"Oh, that," Douglas replied sarcastically.

"Epoxitrichothecene is a nasty variation of trichothecene which is found in a toxic fungus that widely effects barley called fusarium graminearum. We don't have to worry about it because we drink factory-produced beer which makes sure to buy from growers that test for those types of fungi. Some rinky-dink farmer who sells his product on the internet to unsuspecting, moronic home-brewers wouldn't."

"So, you've figured out what the guy has, now you can cure him," Douglas said, sounding pleased.

"It's not that simple," House said glumly. "There's no treatment. Epoxitrichothecene can only be treated by choline, which is poisonous to humans in high doses, and UV light, which won't help since we can't cut him open, expose every inch of him to light and sew him back up."

"So, the guy's dead no matter what?" Douglas asked.

"There's a chance that the symptoms could subside without leaving any permanent damage. It's more likely that he'll die or survive with major brain damage."

"Think he'll still drop the charges if you diagnose him but can't cure him?" Wilson asked.

"That's why I need you to come with me. You're the only person I know who can give someone a death sentence and make them happy about it."

"You can make people happy about dying?" Lucas questioned.

"No, of course not. No one's happy when they're given a fatal prognosis."

"He's had people thank him before. Several times," House interjected.

"People have thanked you?" Douglas asked.

"It doesn't happen often."

"Seriously?" Douglas replied with disbelief.

"House, if we're doing this, let's go. I have a patient coming in for an appointment in thirty minutes," Wilson said, stepping toward the door. "Douglas, it's been... I'll see you later."

"See ya," Douglas replied as Wilson exited.

"Lucas, you want to stick around? We can go for a beer and a sub later," House said to the PI as he was leaving.

"Yeah, fine. I got nothing else to do." With that Lucas sat down and propped his feet up on the conference table while House limped out of the door, following Wilson.

* * *

Cuddy bided her time throughout the rest of the day, half-concentrated on signing papers, replying to e-mails and returning calls to worried donors. She was relieved when Taub interrupted her impromptu meeting with Foreman to let them both know that House had diagnosed Mr. Shauer and he wouldn't be pressing charges. Foreman left to find the hospital lawyer to inform him of the good news and retrieve the legal documents the patient would need to sign.

Aware that now that his medical jigsaw puzzle was solved House would leave as soon as possible, she closed the file she was discussing with Foreman and headed off to House's office, anxious to finish their conversation.

She took a deep breath, nervously knocked on the door to his office and opened it before receiving a response as usual. She was surprised to find that House wasn't alone in the dark room, but in the company of Douglas. Cuddy frowned, disappointed that she wouldn't be able to talk with House privately and not exactly delighted by the PI's presence.

House, however, was relieved Douglas was there. While waiting for test results he had time to think and had decided that his earlier decision to tell Cuddy he cared for her was most certainly the wrong one. He needed to take a week or two to sort out her feelings before he said anything. Better to be safe than miserable, wallowing around your house with an empty bottle of scotch and Vicodin completely alone.

"I heard that Mr. Shauer is letting Kutner and Taub off the hook. Good job," she said.

"No problem. Thanks for saving my ass," he replied genuinely.

"No problem," she smiled.

"But, in all honesty, I couldn't have done it without Lucas. He broke into the patient's apartment and got the information we needed."

"Oh, well... thanks for your help," she told Douglas reluctantly.

"No problem at all. Anything I can do to help you and the hospital," he beamed.

"Since my staff are no longer allowed to break the law, I was wondering if you would lift the PI ban and let me hire Lucas."

"I promise I'll give you a good rate. I'll be practically free," Douglas smiled.

"I suppose Mr. Douglas--"

"Lucas," the PI interjected excitedly.

"Lucas can work for at a reduced rate temporarily. Just until the board members and donors forget Taub and Kutner were arrested. When they move on, Lucas leaves and you find a way to have your team check patients' homes without committing felonies."

"Aww, but felonies are so much fun! But I guess we can hold off on the fun for the time being," he smiled.

"I'd appreciate it," she said, returning the smile. They stared at each other for a moment, each trying to silently decipher what the other was thinking before Douglas interrupted the ritual.

"Dr. Cuddy, Greg and I were going to get dinner. Can I convince you to join us?" the PI asked expectantly.

"I appreciate the invitation, but after spending most of the day on the phone explaining the Kutner-Taub situation, I have a lot of work I have to catch up on. Maybe next time."

"Come on, Partypants. No reason you can't join us for a sandwich and a beer. After you can always come back here and fall asleep at your desk if you feel like it," House said.

"I guess I am a little hungry," she replied.

"Great! I'm so glad you can join us," the PI said enthusiastically.

"Let me go and get my purse and I'll meet you in the lobby," Cuddy said.

"Great! Can't wait!" Douglas called after her as she left the office.

When the door finally closed behind her House shook his head. "Is there a big puddle of drool on my carpet? Because if there is, you're paying for Stanley Steamer."

"I can't help it, I get nervous around her."

"If you want her you've got to work on your technique, which is pretty much non-existent right now. Come on," House said, grabbing his cane and tossing his keys to Douglas. "You're gonna have to drive because tonight I plan on getting wasted. I hate losing patients."

"He's not dead yet."

"He will be soon enough." They both made their way to the door and out of House's office.

"So, is there anything going on between you and Dr. Cuddy? You two kinda have a thing."

"No," he replied after a minute. As he was saying he wanted to kick himself, to take it back, but he couldn't stop himself from continuing. "We're just... There's nothing going on. If you want her, she's yours for the taking."

The PI grinned like an idiot, "Cool."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **So there's the first chapter, hope you weren't! Now that the bit of exposition is done, next time we can get to the fun stuff-- namely, the House/Cuddy/Lucas dinner. A little bit of jealous! House trying not to be jealous. Oh, and enjoy the premiere everybody!


	3. Man Has to Struggle

**Author's Note (Part One):** Once again, thanks for all the reads, reviews and alerts. They are like chocolate chip peanut butter cookies and Thin Mint ice cream. Mmmm. Now I want some cookies. With the premiere and the excitement for all the upcoming episodes, it might be a little harder for me to stay focused on the story. So please forgive me if updates run a little late (I'm trying to do it at least once a week). This chapter is, well, not as awesome as I'd like for it to be... But I really wanted to post it before the new episode, so please forgive me if it's a little lame. Even so, I hope you like it. I don't own this stuff, David Shore does-- except the lyrics, those belong to Van.

* * *

**Man Has to Struggle**

_Man is in conflict with his natural self,_

_Man has to suppress his own desires and instincts,_

_Man has to work so hard to keep them at bay,_

_Man has to struggle all the live long day._

* * *

House watched Lucas as the PI stared longingly at Cuddy. The three had a taken a seat at the booth usually occupied by Foreman, Cameron and Chase-- all who were still busy at the hospital. House half-hoped that the trio would show up and demand their table so their little party could end early. Inviting Cuddy to dinner seemed like a good idea eight minutes ago, but as he listened to Lucas ramble on about Cuddy's beauty and brains in the car on the way over, he became increasingly aware that he should not have told Lucas that Cuddy was his for the taking.

"A pitcher of beer," House said to the busy waitress.

"And a glass of white wine for the lady," Lucas added with a dorky grin.

Cuddy nodded and then looked at the PI with interest, "Thanks, I--"

"Don't like beer. Yeah, I noticed." Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "When I was following around Dr. Wilson and the rest of House's people I had the opportunity to... observe you."

"Observe me? Like an animal in a zoo?" Cuddy frowned slightly. House smiled, deciding that as long as he let Lucas speak unfettered he wouldn't have to worry about the PI stealing Cuddy's heart.

"No, nothing like that," the PI said quickly. "I said I observed you because most people don't like to be told that I watched them while I was on a stake-out."

"That's a little creepy."

"Seriously creepy, if you ask me," House grinned. Lucas looked at him angrily before returning his attention to Cuddy, continuing the damage control.

"Maybe, but I was working for House and when he told me to pay extra-close attention to the way you and Dr. Wilson interacted with each other--"

"I did not," House interrupted.

"Yes, you did. You told me that you wanted to know if he was coming on to her and if--"

"Aren't you bound by the private dick code of confidentiality?"

"There is no PI code of confidentiality."

"That was a hint. What I really meant to say was shut up before I beat you with my cane."

Cuddy laughed, no longer bothered by the idea of Lucas watching her. "What intelligence did you uncover and bring back to House?"

"That you and Dr. Wilson are totally just friends. You know, Dr. Wilson cried once for four and a half hours straight. He must have really loved that girl. Seems like a pretty nice guy; it's really sad what happened to him."

"It is," Cuddy said, surprised by the sincerity of the PI's words.

"Yeah, it's a tragedy," House said dramatically, in a bid to break the tender moment forming between his two dinner companions.

The waitress arrived and placed the pitcher, two glasses and Cuddy's wine on the table. "Have you decided or do you need a couple more minutes?" she asked in a nasal Jersey accent.

"We're ready," House replied before either Cuddy or Lucas could respond. "I want a Reuben, served cold without pickles and extra fries."

"Got it," she said as she jotted down House's order. "Reuben, no pickles, extra fries."

"_Cold_ Reuben, no pickles, extra fries. If it's hot or if it has pickles or if I don't get my extra fries, I will not be a happy customer."

"Cold Reuben, no pickles, extra fries," she repeated with a little attitude. "And for you sir?"

"Umm... I don't know, what do you recommend?" Lucas asked as he flipped through the menu.

"I really like the jerk chicken sandwich with the raspberry dipping sauce. It is out-of-this-world."

"That sounds good; Dr. Cuddy, do you mind?"

"Do I mind what?" she asked perplexed.

"I know you're a vegetarian and I don't want to eat meat if it's going to bother you."

"Of course it won't bother me," she smiled. "It's very sweet of you to ask, most people don't even give it a thought."

"I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable," he smiled back goofily.

"Oh my God," House replied, disgusted. "You're taking forever. He'll have chicken sandwich with fries and she'll have a large house salad."

"Actually, I'd like the black bean burger with fries," Cuddy said, passing the three menus on the table to the waitress who was busy writing down the orders.

"Fries? Since when do you eat carbs?" House said, eyebrows furled.

"I eat fries," she responded defiantly.

"You've eaten fries maybe twice in a decade."

"She eats them all the time," Lucas said, pouring a glass of beer for himself and House.

"How could _you_ possibly know that? You don't even know her first name."

"Of course I do; it's Lisa. And she used to bring Dr. Wilson dinner all the time. If she didn't have fries of her own, she'd swipe some of his."

"He's right," Cuddy said, impressed.

"Oh, big deal. So he knows your first name and that you eat fries. He doesn't know any of the important stuff like where you keep your spare key or what color underwear you wear on Wednesday," House said, irritated.

"You're right, I don't," Lucas conceded. "But I know that her favorite flavor of yogurt is blackberry, she doesn't like honeydew melons, she takes her coffee black, prefers her eggs poached, jogs every day before work, reads the front page of The New York Times every morning and then skips straight to the features section, and if she's working late at night will go down to the cafeteria and spread all of her files out over a series of tables she pushes together."

"Wow. I can't believe you picked up on all of that." Cuddy was visibly impressed, which only annoyed House more.

"_Come on_," House complained. "It's not like he catalogued your life over years, filing away every one of your likes and dislikes, taking note of things that made you smile and cry, playing close attention to all the minutia. He learned those things because I paid him to pay attention. If I hadn't ponied up the greenbacks, he wouldn't know anything about you."

"He's right, I wouldn't," Lucas agreed.

"Whatever the catalyst, it's nice to have someone so earnestly interested in me. It's not something I'm accustomed to," she smiled.

"_Please_! I--" House stopped himself and swallowed the thought he was about to articulate. No need to let Cuddy know just how infatuated he was with her. "I'm sure is it... _nice,_" he finished with a stiff grin. Cuddy gave him an appraising look that said 'I know you weren't going to say that and don't mean it.'

"It's hard not to pay attention to you, Dr. Cuddy--"

"Please, call me Lisa now that we know each other." House inhaled sharply, struggling to control his impulse to say something that might let on how frustrated he was.

"Lisa," Lucas repeated, beaming. "Sometimes when I was supposed to be watching Dr. Wilson or one of House's fellows, I found myself watching you instead. I kept having to remind myself that no matter how beautiful or how brilliant you are, I was hired to follow someone else. You made my job very hard."

"Stalk-er," House said in a quiet, sing-sing voice.

"That's so--"

"Icky?" House offered.

"Sweet," Cuddy finished.

"Sweet? _Really_?" House paused, reminding himself to shut-up. "Because I was thinking the same thing. It's just _precious_."

Cuddy shot House a look and he feigned innocence. "So Lucas, what drew you to private--"

"Finally," House interrupted. The waitress barely walked up to the table with their food when House began to harass her. "What took you so long?"

"The kitchen had to cook your Reuben before they started the rest of your party's meals so that it would be cold when it got here," the waitress said flatly. She dropped House's dish in front of him, forcing a smile, before putting down Cuddy's bean burger and Lucas' chicken sandwich. "Anything else I can get for you folks?"

"No, we're great," Cuddy replied before House could interject.

"I'll leave you to it then," the waitress answered before hurrying off.

"I need more ketchup," House said, picking up the bottle from their table.

"That's almost half a bottle," Cuddy observed.

"Not enough. After all, I have to get my daily serving of vegetables." Cuddy shook her head, turned around in the booth, and knelt on the cushion. House and Lucas enjoyed the view as she bent over the back and picked up the ketchup bottle from the empty table. She turned back around and plopped onto the seat, handing the bottle to House.

"Lucas was staring at your ass when you were bent over the back of the booth," House said, taking the bottle and popping a fry in his mouth.

"I... um.. I... It wasn't on purpose... I..." Lucas stammered, blushing.

Cuddy waved her hand, "Don't worry about it. House stares at my ass all the time. The only difference is that you did it without the derogatory comment-- which I appreciate."

"It's not my fault you've got junk in the trunk," House said, taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Here," he passed the ketchup back to Cuddy, "Put some love on that burger and eat it before it gets cold."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and obliged. The trio spent the rest of the meal in satisfied silence, eating their food hungrily. House was quick to stall any conversation Cuddy and Lucas attempted. He was relieved when they reached the end of dinner, letting out a mental sigh as Lucas left the table to find their waitress and pay the ticket.

Cuddy, who had been waiting all night for Lucas to leave them alone, seized the opportunity to talk with House. "Why did you invite me to dinner?"

"Why did I invite you to dinner?" he repeated, pretending not to understand the question.

"Yes. Why?"

"Technically, I didn't invite you to dinner, Lucas did."

"You told me to come. Why?"

"_Why_? It was dinner time and I thought you might be hungry."

"Is that it? I thought... I thought you might want to talk about what happened... earlier."

"Earlier?" he said, enjoying how frustrated she was getting.

"In the lecture hall... You played me a song... You said we had chemistry--"

"Isn't ringing any bells."

"House, don't play coy with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I want to finish our conversation."

"I didn't know there was anything left to say," House replied calmly, one voice inside his head screaming at him to be honest, the other screaming at him to deflect.

"Wilson interrupted us. You were saying we should do something," she leaned over the table, closer to him and looked into his eyes. "What were you going to say?"

He looked out into the restaurant, "I don't remember."

"Yes, you do."

"I said I don't, so chances are--"

"You remember."

"If I remembered then why wouldn't I just tell you so you would stop annoying me?"

"Because you realized what you were going to reveal and got cold feet."

"Well, I wouldn't know-- Since I can't remember."

She let out an irritated sigh, "I don't know why you encouraged me to come to dinner if you had no intention of talking about this with me."

"Again, I thought you might be hungry. Plus, Lucas has a little thing for you. He wanted you to come and so--"

"Your plan was to pawn me off on your friend so you wouldn't have to finish our discussion."

"He's my friend. He likes you. I was trying to do something nice."

"Give me a break. You never do anything nice, at least not without the hope of getting something in return."

"What can I say? I'm a big softy. I just wanted to help my buddy win the girl of his dreams," he said in a ridiculous, sensitive voice.

"Fine. If you want to play it that way, fine," she said with a hint of menace.

"Did I miss something? I think that was a threat, but I can't figure out what you're threatening me with."

"No, not at all," she replied in a syrupy voice.

House studied her with narrowed eyes until Lucas returned to the table, bill paid.

"All taken care of," the PI said triumphantly.

"Great, now we can leave," House said, standing up. Cuddy grabbed her purse and followed suit. "Lucas, you should take a taxi back to the hospital so I don't have to backtrack."

"You said when I agreed to leave my truck that you would drop me off after dinner."

"Well, it was either that or look like an idiot riding around in a beaten-up, old ice cream truck."

"You've ridden in it before."

"Only when you were doing surveillance work."

"You don't have to call a cab. I'll give you a ride back to the hospital; I'm headed there anyway," Cuddy said to Lucas.

"No, I'll drive him back," House said quickly, hoping Cuddy would shrug and leave it alone. "I promised."

"House, go home. I'll drop Lucas off."

"I don't want to put you out," he said, hoping he could convince her.

"I told you, I'm headed there anyway."

"I'd hate for--"

"House, it's cool. Lisa will give me a ride," Lucas said, in a tone more forceful than his normal.

"Okay," House said slowly. "Thanks for the Reuben."

"No problem," Lucas replied as he turned toward Cuddy. "Shall we go?"

"Sure, I'm in the parking lot behind the restaurant. See you tomorrow, House," she said as they began to walk toward the back door.

"See you tomorrow, Cuddy," he replied, watching them as they went, kicking himself for having the stupid idea to insist she come, praying Lucas would make an idiot of himself on the way to Princeton Plainsboro.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two):** There it is. Next time we'll hear about what happened when Cuddy dropped Lucas off at the hospital when the PI comes to talk to House. And Wilson finally finds out what happened in that lecture room. Let's just say he's going to call House an idiot at least once. Hope to see you next time! Thanks for reading!


	4. Days Like This

**Author's Note (Part One): **First off, thanks a ton for all the reads, alerts and reviews. I love that you like the story. It makes me seriously happy... like PI eating lunch with Cuddy happy. I had this mostly written on Monday, but didn't finish it. And then I saw the _awesome_ episode on Tuesday (don't you love Lucas?!) and felt compelled to watch it four more times before finishing this chapter. So, please accept my apologies for the lateness. That said, this has a lot of exposition in it, so I hope it doesn't bore you to tears. For those of you who have read the previous fic, I copied a little section from the alternate ending and transplanted it. I hope you can forgive me. All these peeps belong to David Shore and company and these lyrics belong to Van the Man (and one of my favorite songs).

* * *

**Days Like This**

_When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit_

_Then I must remember there'll be days like this_

* * *

"Hey, you never called me back," Lucas said as he entered House's office the following afternoon.

"I forgot. I was busy," House replied absentmindedly while tossing his ball against the office wall.

"Busy? You weren't busy."

"Of course I was busy. Why would I lie to you?"

"I didn't think you needed a reason. I thought you just liked to screw with me sometimes. And you weren't busy."

"Wait," House said, suspicious "How would you know if I was busy? Did you bug my apartment?"

"Didn't we have a conversation about this, like, twenty-three times? I don't bug my friend's houses."

"Is that the truth?" House asked, studying him intensely.

"Yes; you know I can't lie."

"You've gotten better at it. It makes me so proud," House said in a mock-parental voice.

"Glad you're happy."

"My sweet, innocent PI is growing up into a a fine, miserable, lying bastard," House finished with an exaggerated sigh. "Seriously, did you bug my house?"

"No!" Lucas responded, frustrated. "Friends don't bug one another's houses."

"I had you bug Wilson's place."

"Sorry, I meant to say, sane people don't bug their friend's houses."

"If you didn't bug my house, there's no way you could have--"

"Monday night, you go home, pop some Vicodin, break out six-pack and watch 'Gossip Girl.' Sometimes you put on porn after, if you're bored. Or you just go to sleep."

"So, friends don't bug each other's apartments, but they do spy on each other."

"You're scary. I had to make sure you weren't a serial killer or a mad scientist or something before I agreed to be your friend."

"Mad scientist?"

"Hey, you never know," he said, taking a seat in House's armchair. "So, why didn't you answer the phone?"

"We've established this. I was busy watching Serena and Dan break-up for the fifteenth time."

"It's only an hour-long program. I called you at 11:00 and again at 12:30."

"I was devastated, I couldn't bring myself to answer the phone," he said dramatically.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "Don't you want to know what happened with me and Lisa?"

"Not particularly," House mumbled. That was an understatement, he had absolutely no desire to know how the ride home went-- especially since the PI was obviously excited about something.

"It was quiet for the first couple of minutes," he began, completely ignoring House's comment. "I thought that she really didn't like me, but we started talking about sports. Turns out she is totally into hockey and I love hockey!"

"Yes, it is surprising that a ruthless, pushy, confrontational she-devil likes a ruthless game filled with pushing and confrontation."

"Anyway, I have a couple of tickets to the Devils' game on Wednesday and I asked her if she wanted to come and she said yes! Isn't that great?"

"Awesome," House said sarcastically.

The PI furled his eyebrows, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I think it's great that you're able to ignore the soul-sucking and evil to see the beautiful demon within."

"Wait. Are you... jealous?"

"No, I am not jealous," House said, irritated.

"Why would you be jealous? You told me that there was nothing going on between you two. You told me I should go for it."

"I'm not jealous," he said, getting more annoyed.

"You _so_ totally are."

"_I so totally am not_," House replied, mimicking the PI's voice.

"Then why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry!" House yelled. "I am irritated because you keep insisting that I'm jealous-- Which I am not!"

"Whoa. Calm down." House took a steadying breath and Lucas watched him for a moment. "You know, you've got to work on that temper." House shot him a dirty look. "Are you sure that there's nothing going on--"

"Yes, I'm sure," he interrupted tersely. "I don't have any interest in her that extends beyond her breasts and ass."

"So, you don't care if I date her?"

"Would it matter if I did?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Maybe," the PI shrugged.

"Okay... Then don't date her."

"Are you saying that because you like her or are you saying it to screw with me?"

"To screw with you," House answered quickly.

"If you like her, why tell me to go ahead? Why not tell me the truth?"

"I never said I like her. I said I was screwing with you."

"You didn't think she'd like me. That's why you told me to go for it. You didn't think she'd be interested," Lucas said, talking to himself.

"Like that makes sense."

"You didn't think she would agree to go on a date with me, so you encouraged me. You encouraged me thinking that she would say no and I would lose interest. That way you get me to back off without ever having to admit that you like her. It's an ingenious plan."

"Yes, it would have been... _If_ it had been my plan. Really, I was just screwing with you. Take her out, don't take her out, it doesn't matter to me."

"It so does."

"It _so _does not," House snapped. "Would you look at the time?" House made no pretense of checking his watch. "I've got somewhere I have to be." He stood up and walked to the door of his office.

"I'm not backing off," Lucas smiled, getting to his feet.

"Fine."

"If you want her, you'll just have to try harder."

"Are you challenging me?" House said, eyebrows raised. "Because better men than you have tried and failed."

"Come on, House, I wouldn't challenge you. Challenging someone implies that there is a common goal and a worthy adversary," the PI grinned. "You won't even admit you like her and you're... Well, you're you. There's no challenge there."

"Are you saying I'm not up to it?"

"I'm saying-- Yes. I'm saying you're not capable of being up for it. You being up for it means you would have to admit to yourself that you want her. And that's something you're not capable of."

House studied Lucas for a moment, "I accept."

"You accept what?"

"I accept your challenge." House pushed the door open and said over his shoulder, "It is _so_ on." As he turned toward Wilson's office he could see Lucas smiling back at him, amused.

* * *

House opened the door and limped into Wilson's office. Wilson looked up and frowned, not pleased by the sight of his visitor. "Busy," he said coldly as House closed the door.

House made his way to the couch and stretched out. Wilson glanced up when he heard his friend plop on the sofa. "I'm still busy," he repeated, looking back down. "In case you didn't hear me the first time."

"Sorry," House mumbled. "You know, about the Amber thing."

"You should be," Wilson replied, continuing to do paperwork.

"I said I was," he whined.

Wilson looked up, narrowed his eyes, put his pen down and directed his attention at House. "Alright, what's up?"

"I did something," House screwed up his face and grimaced, "Kind of stupid."

"And? You do something stupid all the time."

House inhaled slowly, "It might be more stupid than usual. Or is it stupider than usual? I can never remember."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Lisa, would it?"

"Hmmm... Could."

"I knew I interrupted something yesterday!" Wilson exclaimed, verbally patting himself on the back. "Alright, spill. What happened?"

"Let's just say that I might have given Cuddy the idea I was interested in her."

"No, no, no. Details. I need details, specific information if I'm going to assess the situation."

"Who says I want you to assess the situation?" House shot back.

"Because you only come to me for two things; unwanted personal advice and solicited medical advice. Since you just told me it has to do with Cuddy--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," House interrupted. "Anyway, back to the stupid thing."

"Yes, back to that," Wilson replied. "Details? Or am I going to have to read tea leaves to get some answers?"

"I apologized--"

"For..."

"For the whole Kutner, Taub fuck-up. She was angry, so--"

"And you cared that she was angry?" Wilson said, surprised. House shot him a look. "Sorry, please continue."

"I said I was sorry, I sang her a song, I--"

"It wasn't 'Evil Woman' was it?" Wilson smiled.

"No, it wasn't 'Evil Woman,'" House replied testily.

"So, you serenaded her."

"I didn't serenade her. Stop making it sound like a scene from a Meg Ryan movie."

"Was the song romantic?"

"Not particularly."

"What did you sing?"

"Lennon's 'Woman'," he whispered, embarrassed.

"No, not romantic at all," Wilson said sarcastically. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't the last verse of that song consist of only 'I love you's?"

"I didn't sing that part."

"Well, as long as you didn't sing that part... then you're right, it's not romantic at all."

"Shut up," House grumbled, Wilson smiled.

"Was there something after the serenade or was did you reach your romance quota for the year with the song?"

"We talked about you and how she finds you repulsive," House replied, satisfied. Wilson rolled his eyes. "She said she needed chemistry, I said that I thought we had chemistry, she agreed and asked me what I was getting at."

"And?" Wilson asked, suspense getting the better of him. "_And??_"

"And that's when you came in."

"House! For the love of-- Why didn't you just tell me to leave?!"

"Because you burst in the room like the police after a failed hostage negotiation. It's not my fault that--"

"Yes, yes, it's my fault. I accept full responsibility," he said flatly. "Now, please tell me that you didn't just leave it like that."

"I didn't just leave it like that."

"Thank God," Wilson said relieved. "So, are you two... dating.. or--"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Nothing like that?" Wilson repeated, confused. "Then it's something like what?" House looked down and tapped his cane on the floor a few times. "Floor tap, no eye contact. Not usually a good sign." Wilson sighed and leaned back in his chair, "What did you do?"

"Who said--"

"_House_."

"I..." House tapped his cane a few more times, "Might have told Lucas that there was nothing going on between Cuddy and I, encouraged him to pursue her and--"

"There's an _and_? Wasn't sicking the PI on her enough?"

"He's a good guy."

"He's... annoying."

"So are you, you don't see me holding it against you."

"House, please tell me you said something, did something--"

"I invited her out to dinner."

"That's a step in the—"

"With me and the PI, last night."

"You didn't."

"She wanted to continue our conversation--"

"Please say you talked. _Please_ say you continued the damn conversation."

"I... said I couldn't remember what we were talking about--"

"Idiot."

"And told her that Lucas liked her--"

"Idiot!"

"And then he asked her out--"

"_Idiot!_"

"And she said yes," House finished with a frown.

Wilson held up his hands. "You have got to be the biggest idiot _of all time._ Most guys, they like a girl--"

"I never said--"

"No, of course not! That's your problem, House! You _never_ say. You won't admit it. You come close and then you do everything in your power to sabotage it."

"Is this where you tell me I screwed up because deep down I just want to be miserable and alone? 'Cause it seems we made it to that point of the conversation."

"I'm not going to pretend to understand you any more, it only gives me headaches. All I know is, you serenaded her, made her admit that the two of you had chemistry, invited her to dinner and then you threw her at the PI. The PI? Seriously, House? _The PI_?!"

"He likes her."

"Of course, I've been assuming this whole time that you actually _want_ her. Maybe the song, the chemistry thing, the dinner, maybe it's just you're way of screwing with her."

House rolled his eyes, "I wasn't screwing with her."

Wilson leaned over the desk and said conspiratorially, "Are you actually admitting that you like her?" House looked out the window near him, sighed deeply, and subtlety nodded his head as if he found the question deeply annoying.

Wilson leaned back and chuckled, "I always thought that if I witnessed a miracle there would be more fanfare."

"Oh, shut up." House looked up, finally meeting Wilson's eyes, desperate. "What do I do?"

"You tell her how you feel."

"Can't."

"House, you have to. You told Lucas to go for it. He's just as persistent and stubborn and as obsessive as you are with the added bonus of being able to tell her how he feels about her. You have to fess up."

"There's got to be some other way," House mumbled to himself.

"Too bad Gladys isn't still around. The two of you can turn any date into a disaster." House grinned as an idea hit him. "House, I was just joking. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said standing up and grabbing his cane.

"Because that would be the worst thing you could do," Wilson said, worried.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know," he smiled deviously.

"You wreaking havoc, showing up on her date-- it would just piss her off. And that would drive the two of them closer together. And that would be bad."

"Very bad."

"Yes, very bad. So, you're not going to do anything stupid, right? There's not going to be a repeat performance? Because the last one didn't go so well."

"I wouldn't say that."

"You made her so angry that she poured a pitcher of beer down your shirt and invited me in."

"But she didn't sleep with you--"

"_House."_

"Don't worry, I learned my lesson," he reassured, making his way to the door.

"Thank God," Wilson said, relieved.

"This time she won't even know I'm there." House opened the door and ignored Wilson repeatedly calling his name as he stepped out of the office. He made his way down the hall already contemplating how to spy on a private investigator without getting caught.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **That's it! I hope you liked it! Next time House spies on the date. Since there's no new episode next week (heartbreaking!), I'm going to update at least once (but hopefully twice) before the show resumes.


	5. Here Comes the Night

**Author's Note (Part One): **First off, thanks for all the reviews, reads and alerts. You guys make my day when I get those little notices in my inbox. Happiness! Okay, I didn't update twice; I almost didn't update once. I've been kinda under the weather lately and haven't felt up to writing. But I got so excited about the airing of tonight's episode that I had to finish and post before it aired. So, here it is! I hope you enjoy it! Characters belong to Shore, lyrics belong to Van and the Devils and Rangers belong to... their fans.

* * *

**Here Comes the Night**

_My girl with another guy,_

_His arm around her like it used to be with me,_

_Oh-oo it makes me want to die._

* * *

"I didn't know you liked hockey," Wilson said, descending the Rock's stairs to their seats.

"Yeah. Love it," House replied dispassionately, limping his way slowly down. "How much farther to these seats? With the rate we're going I might not have enough Vicodin to last the game."

Wilson glanced at their tickets, "Not much farther. House, how much did you pay for these seats?"

"I don't remember. 500 bucks."

"500? You paid 500 for something that wasn't a controlled or illegal substance?" He stopped and nodded to the row to the left of him. "This is us."

"I told you I like the sport," he said, motioning for Wilson to sit down first.

"How come you always get the aisle seat and I'm always stuck next to some stranger who smells like stale beer?" Wilson whispered as he and House took their seats.

"I'm taller. _And_ I'm a cripple."

"Excuses, excuses," Wilson mumbled as House popped two Vicodin.

"Hey, go get me two chili dogs and one of those big beers," House said, retrieving a rumpled five-dollar bill from his pocket.

Wilson frowned, "Why don't you go get it yourself?

"Uh, _hello_," House said as if it were obvious."_Stairs. Gimp._"

"Fine," Wilson said, standing and taking the money from his friend. After climbed over House he looked at the crinkled bill and sighed, "This is five dollars."

"Yeah, I know. _And?_"

"And the stuff you want me to get is going to probably cost over twenty."

"Probably."

"Well?" Wilson said after waiting for House to give him more money. "Aren't you going to give me more money?"

House looked at him, confused, "You do know who I am right? I never pay for anything."

"Then why give me five dollars?"

"I thought I would be nice and give you a tip," House shrugged.

Wilson rolled his eyes and gave House back his bill, "Here. I don't want it. I'll be right back."

Wilson continued to make his way up the steps and House smirked. After glancing back to make sure that Wilson had left the arena, House rumbled around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small set of binoculars.

Bringing them to his face, he hunched down in his chair and started to scan the crowd in front him. He knew that their seats were somewhere nearby and wished he had written them down when he had the chance. House had bought tickets in section 18 after he found out, with some bribery, that Lucas had inherited section 19 tickets from a client. House remembered that the seats were close to the ice, but couldn't remember exactly how close. When a quick glance at the section didn't work, House decided to look more carefully, slowly scanning the seats for Cuddy and her date.

"Something tells me those aren't for watching the game," Wilson said, appearing out of nowhere carrying two monstrous beers and a bag full of food. He held out one beer for House to take.

House lowered the binoculars and took the glass. "What makes you think that?" he asked as Wilson struggled past him for a second time that evening.

"Well, the fact that the game hasn't started was my first hint," Wilson said, taking his seat.

"You caught me. I'm checking out chicks. This way I can stare at their boobs and their boyfriends won't get mad," he said, taking the bag of food from Wilson and ferreting out his two dogs.

"Mine are the ones with cheese," Wilson said, watching as House pulled open the wrapper of one to reveal a cheddar-chili-covered dog.

"I like cheese," House said, opening his mouth for a bite.

"Uh-uh-uh," Wilson scolded, snatching the dog from House. "I'll take that."

"I wasn't really going to eat it," House said, rolling his eyes and pulling out another dog.

"Yeah, right," Wilson said taking a bite as House found one of his and put the paper bag on the ground. "Seriously, what's the spy gear for?"

"For the game. I was just passing time until the puck drops," House said, eating his dog and looking throughout the binoculars again.

"No, you're up to something," Wilson said, finishing his dog and taking a swig of beer. "What are you up to? Do I even want to know?"

House continued his search, "You don't want to know."

Wilson grabbed his next dog from the bag on the floor, "House, please tell me you didn't drag me here to do something stupid and embarrass me."

"When have I ever embarrassed you?"

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"No." House grinned, "Bingo." He had found Cuddy and the PI. The were about six rows in front of them in the adjacent section, the third from the glass. Before House had a second to discern anything else from the situation, Wilson grabbed the binoculars from him. "Hey!"

"Let's see who you're looking at," Wilson said, fighting House's attempts to get the binoculars back while holding the rest of his chili dog in his mouth and trying to find the exact spot where House's view had been focused.

"It's not nice to take other people's things," House said, grabbing at the binoculars, but still thwarted by Wilson.

"No, it's not. You should remember that the next time you come to my apartment and steal my food," he replied, words muffled by the hot dog.

"Fine. Have it your way," House pouted. As Wilson continued his search and ate his dog, House stopped fighting, grabbed the bag of food off the floor and began eating the fries inside it.

"Those are my fries," Wilson frowned without glancing in House's direction.

"Not any more. Now they're my fries. My tasty, tasty fries." House took several fries and shoved them in his mouth, making sure to make a lot of noise as he ate them.

"You love hockey, huh?" Wilson asked as he found Cuddy and Lucas.

"Yep," House said, still shoveling fries in his mouth.

Wilson handed back the binoculars. "Then I suppose it's just coincidence that Cuddy is here on a date with Lucas."

"What? Cuddy's here? No way!" House said dramatically.

"Didn't we have a conversation about meddling in Cuddy's affairs? Didn't we say it was a bad thing?"

"Did we? I can't remember," House said, faking amnesia.

"I can't believe you dragged me with you to spy on Cuddy!"

"_Really?_ We've known each other this long and you still didn't expect this?"

"I thought you'd think about it, but I didn't think you'd actually go through with it, seeing as we had just agreed that it was better that you not stalk her any more."

"I'm not stalking her."

"No, of course not. You're just following her around, watching her secretly and doing anything you can to take out the competition so you can have her all to yourself."

"When you say it that way, you make it sound like a bad thing."

"Do you really think that driving Cuddy to the brink of killing you is a good thing? Then, by all means, continue down the path you're on."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're no fun?"

"Let's just sit here and watch the game. Do you think you can do that?"

"Sure," House smiled.

"Why does that smile make me nervous?"

"Probably because you're being paranoid."

"_House_."

"Fine. I swear, from this moment, I won't do anything to ruin Cuddy's date with Lucas. I'll just sit here in my seat and spy on them quietly like a good stalker." Wilson narrowed his eyes appraisingly. "Scout's honor." He held up two fingers.

"That's the peace sign, but it's good enough. Could it be that you're actually going to act like grown-up for once in your life?"

"Careful. I'm getting the urge to stomp my feet and hold my breath."

Wilson laughed, "Fair enough. I'll shut up."

"Let's watch the game," House said, slouching in his chair, putting the binoculars to his face and focusing in on Lucas and Cuddy.

Wilson sighed heavily, but didn't say anything as he silently turned his attention to the ice.

* * *

The two periods of the game passed without incident-- Wilson cheering with the crowd, House mesmerized by the interaction between Lucas and Cuddy. They both seemed to be enjoying the game, screaming support for the Devils, but in no way that would suggest that they were more than just friends. In fact, at his count, Lucas had tried four times for some sort of physical contact, but had yet to succeed as Cuddy had tried her hardest to ignore all of his attempts.

"Wow. Did you see that shot?" Wilson asked, amazed, as he sat back down in his seat, having risen to root Patrik Elias to his second goal of the night.

"No," House said, lowering the binoculars, "But I did see Cuddy subtly lean away from Lucas as he tried to give her a congratulatory hug.

"Have you seen any of the game or have you been creepily staring at Cuddy all night?"

"The game's boring," House said flatly, garnering some dirty looks from nearby eavesdropping fans.

"You might want to keep your opinion to yourself or at least lower your voice so we don't get mobbed."

"It's not my fault that watching Cuddy continually spurn Lucas' advances is more interesting than some guy shooting a puck."

"If you tried to pay attention, you'd probably like it. There's plenty of violence, as there is in all of your favorite sports--"

"There's no violence in beach volleyball--"

"No, but there are breasts. Violence or breasts, that's all you require from a sporting event."

"It's why I don't like tennis or golf," House smirked, turning his gaze to the ice. "There's no one even out there."

"Of course not, the second period just ended."

"Second period, you say?" House asked, grinning widely.

"Yeeeees," Wilson replied suspiciously. "Why are you so happy?"

"No reason. Just glad it's intermission."

"House, you said you wouldn't do anything. Why do I have the feeling you did something?"

"Correction, I said I wouldn't do anything from that point forward. I didn't say anything about what I might have done previously."

"House--"

"Shhh, just watch the scoreboard. Should be any moment now." He smiled as Wilson looked from House to the jumbotron comically, awaiting the worst.

* * *

"Thanks," Cuddy said as Lucas sat back down, handing her a bottle of water. She opened it and took a sip to help fill the somewhat awkward silence.

"That was a mind-blowing shot," Lucas said, staring at her intently.

Cuddy nodded, "It was. Definitely."

"I'm just glad we're beating the Rangers. Last time we played them we sucked."

"I know. No one seemed to be able to do anything. Even Brodeur was having problems," she said taking another drink.

Lucas smiled, moony. "I know I've said it before, but it's just so cool that you're into hockey. There aren't a lot of attractive, intelligent, single women out there-- let alone ones that like hockey."

"I'm sure there are plenty," she said screwing the cap back on her water.

"Nope, you're the first one I've ever met. The kind of girl to marry and take home to meet mother... Or at least, I would if my mother weren't dead... But you get the picture. It's like you're the perfect woman... Or at least my perfect woman."

"That's very sweet," Cuddy said, a little uncomfortable.

"I hope I'm not freaking you out or anything--"

"Oh, look!" she interrupted, pointing to the jumbotron. "Someone's getting proposed to." Little wedding bells ran around the two long, thin banner-like parts of the scoreboard.

_'You're the woman of my dreams' _the top center LED screen read. '_I love you so much.' _

"Aww," Cuddy said, obviously enchanted.

"That's really swe—" but the words died on the PI's tongue as the center message changed to read _'Will you marry me, Lisa Cuddy?'_

The moonstruck look on Cuddy's face was quickly replaced with one of horror as she saw herself staring back at her from the bottom, large screen. She didn't notice how shocked Lucas was until she turned toward him, with a stiff smile, and saw the look of terror on his face as well.

"Lisa, you have to believe me," Lucas managed to whisper to her without moving his lips, mouth frozen in a smile, "I did not do this. I swear."

"Ok, I believe you. But if you didn't do it, what's the alternative?" she whispered back as the crowd and the announcer began demanding an answer.

"I have no idea, but I swear it wasn't me. You believe me don't you?" he begged under his breath.

Cuddy stared at him for a moment and slightly nodded her head, forgetting that her face was still being broadcast to the entire arena. Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers, all assuming that Cuddy's nod was her way of accepting the proposal.

* * *

"Oh my god," Wilson said, almost speechless. House grinned widely as they saw Cuddy and Lucas' horrified faces fill the screen on the scoreboard. "I can't believe that you... 500 for seats and now... How much did this little stunt cost you?"

"Me? Nothing," House said, still transfixed as he watched Cuddy and Lucas stare and mumble at each other.

Wilson looked at him, confused, "Are you saying that you got someone to do it for free?"

"Of course not! It cost over 3,000. It's just that I didn't pay for it."

Wilson looked just as scared as Cuddy and Lucas as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket, "I can't believe you! We talked--"

"Calm down. You didn't pay for it either. Gladys did."

"Gladys? You swindled money from a little old lady?"

"No, she gave it to me. She was happy to once she found out what the screen was going to say."

"Let me guess," Wilson said frowning, "You didn't tell her that the one proposing wasn't you."

"It never came up."

"Taking an elderly woman's money by lying to her--"

"Stop being such a downer and watch the show."

Wilson shook his head and faced the scoreboard where he saw Cuddy nod, "Did she just accept his proposal?" The crowd roared approval.

"No. She nodded, but they're obviously talking about something else under their breath. See his lips moved a little," House pointed out. Audience members began chanting for a kiss.

"Well, everyone seems to be happy about something," Wilson replied as the call for a smooch grew louder.

"No way she kisses him," House replied confidently as his comment was drowned by a thousands of Rangers and Devils fans calling for a lip-lock.

House's heart dropped into his intestines as he saw Lucas Douglas lean over to give Lisa Cuddy a quick kiss. He watched Cuddy drape her arms behind Lucas' head as he put his around her, turning what was at first a quick peck on the lips into passionate kiss. The crowd cheered, Wilson's mouth fell open and House collapsed against the back of his chair wondering how his plan could have turned out so badly.

The scoreboard was filled once more with game stats and video of the players on the ice as the third period started. House turned his binoculars toward the pair again, but, much to his dismay, he found them sitting closer, laughing intimately.

"This is your fault,"Wilson said, eyes fixed on the game. "If you had just listened to my advice then all of this could have been avoided."

House stopped staring at Cuddy and Lucas and put the binoculars back in his jacket pocket. "Do you really think that now is the time for lectures?"

"I said you'd push them together and you did. Now they're all close and cuddly and before--"

"Yes, you're right!" House said, angrily. "I should have taken your sage advice. But I didn't and now the woman I... you know... is making out with another guy. You were right, you were right, _you were right_. Now can you just drop it? Believe me seeing them suck each other's faces is punishment enough. I don't need your scolding to feel like shit. Let's just watch the damn game."

Wilson nodded, "Let's watch the game."

House and Wilson spent the remainder of the evening in silence watching the Devils beat the Rangers-- an outcome that made every fan in the audience happy with the exception of one.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two):** I hope you liked it! Next time, House talks to the PI, Wilson talks to Cuddy.. and the return of Gladys. Happy Episode Four!


	6. Your Mind Is On Vacation

**Author's Note (Part One): **Before I get to the excuses, I'd just like to say thanks for all the reads, reviews and alerts. They make my day. The only thing better? Huddy on-screen action (and even then, it's a really close second). Sorry it's been two weeks since my last update-- I participate in a lot of arts and crafts fairs this time of the year, so I'm having to rev up production to be ready for the first one at the beginning of November. So this is probably going to be the last update until after the 9th. I love you all, so please don't hate me. I wrote this one pretty fast, so I only read through it once rather than the usual three times. Please excuse any typos/grammatical errors. Enjoy! House, his one true love, his best friend and his personal private investigator belong to David Shore. But his elderly, one-woman cheering squad belongs to me.

* * *

**Your Mind Is On Vacation**

"_Sittin' there yakkin' in my face,_

_Comin' on like you own the place."_

* * *

Figuring that House would bombard her about her date with Lucas first thing in the morning, Cuddy was surprised that when she looked at the clock and realized lunch had come and House had not. She was even more surprised when she found Wilson waiting for her on the couch in her office when she returned from grabbing a sandwich and a Diet Coke from the cafeteria.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a startled but authoritative voice, returning to her desk and peeling off the wrapper on her sandwich.

He narrowed his eyes, legs and arms still crossed. She raised her eyebrows and popped the top of her soda can. "Well?" she asked, hoping he would either talk or leave her to her work.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean? I--"

"I mean what's going on between you and House?"

"The same thing that always goes on. He irritates me, I reprimand him by giving him more clinic hours," she replied, coyly.

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, then what were you referring to?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. One minute House tells me you two are on the verge of something and the next minute you're on a jumbotron kissing the PI."

"House said we were on the verge of something?" she asked curiously.

"Not in so many words, but--"

"James, I have work to do. What do you want to know? Either spell it out or leave me to my paperwork."

"You know he has feelings for you, why did you go on a date with another man? Why would you do that to him? What purpose does it serve? Do you have feelings for him? If so, then why are you jerking him around--"

"Let me stop you right there. First, House has never told me he has any feelings for me other than contempt and frustration."

"You know he--"

"No, I don't. I don't know anything. Three days ago he said that we had chemistry and then when I tried to talk about it he encouraged me to go out with Lucas. He's given me no indication--"

"He told you he thought you two had chemistry. That, at the very least, is a huge step --"

"_He's given me no indication_," she said forcefully, "That he was lying or that he really wants me for himself--"

"You know him, _you know_--"

"I know what I wanted and I know what I wanted him to want, but he doesn't want that. Apparently, he wants me with Lucas. So, he gets what he wished for and I get to be around someone who can tell me how he feels about me."

"Lisa, House cares about you. I know that he pushed you toward Lucas, but he doesn't really want you to be with the PI. _He_ wants to be with you. _Think about it_. All the dates he's ruined, all the boyfriends he's run off. I'm his best friend, but the second I won you at the auction he declared war. He made our date a living hell just so he could be sure that we'd never do it again. He can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. He wants you for himself."

"If he wants me for himself then why would he shove me in Lucas' direction?"

"Because he's scared. Because he's vulnerable." She raised her eyebrows. "He is. After Stacey... you know how it was. He's terrified of opening himself up to that kind of hurt again. The leg pain he can deal with, but the other-- I don't think he'd make it through another break up like that and I think he knows it. He wants to be sure, wants to be 100% certain it will work before he risks it--"

"Then nothing's ever going to happen. There are no guarantees in relationships."

"I know that and deep down House does too. He knows. It's just going to take some time--"

"If I have to wait for House to get over all of his issues, I'll be dead before he asks me out."

"There was a time, not that long ago, where I would have agreed with you, but I think he's ready, he just needs to work up the courage. You know, the other day he told me he liked you. He's never admitted to anything like that before."

"Did he say he liked me... Or did you ask him and he looked off into a corner, so you assumed it was his way of saying yes?"

"He... nodded," Wilson said slowly.

Cuddy shook her head and glanced at her clock. "I don't have time to analyze the inner workings of House's brain; I've got a meeting with some donors in ten minutes."

"Lisa--"

"He can't even tell you he has feelings for me or he won't or...," she sighed. "He has to say it out loud. He has to tell me he wants to be with me, tell me he likes me. He has to want me to know. I'm tired of always being the one that gives in; I'm tired of walking a mile and waiting for him to take a step... And I'm not doing it any more; it's his turn."

"_Lisa_--"

She took a sip of her soda and picked up her pen, "Do you mind, Dr. Wilson? I have a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in."

Wilson frowned, but didn't say anything. He turned and left the office, leaving Cuddy to her thoughts and her sandwich.

* * *

House had spent the day brooding in his office, bouncing his ball angrily off the wall. The fellows had left him alone, preferring to do their differentials with Foreman and avoid his foul mood. He was replaying the kiss between Cuddy and Lucas for what was probably the millionth time in his head, when the PI entered, unannounced and unwelcome.

"That was clever," Lucas said, sitting down in House's armchair.

"Not in the mood," he said irritated, hurling the ball at the wall again.

"Really. I mean, usually when someone wants to ruin someone else's date they just, I don't know, steal their wallet or have their car towed-- something like that. But you, you went all out. How much did that cost you exactly?"

"Nothing," House replied moodily.

"Nothing? Really? Wilson pay?"

"No, I do have other friends."

"Friends that would loan you that much cash?" House shot him a dirty look; Lucas smiled. "Even if it wasn't your money, it must have hurt that it didn't work."

House threw the ball again, enjoying the satisfying thump of the ball against the wall, imagining that it was Lucas' smug face.

"A fake marriage proposal on the scoreboard? Most women would be so freaked out they would have run away screaming. Who could have known that wouldn't work?" Lucas said with a smile.

"Who would've?" House mumbled.

"I guess the same person who knew you had a history of ruining Cuddy's dates. The person who knew you who do something like this so they left their tickets out so you could see them. The person who found out that someone called up to the arena the day before the game to confirm those seats. Assuming that you would do something like rent out the scoreboard for a marriage proposal, maybe that person decided to let it play out... Because maybe that person figured that, after the initial shock, Lisa would think it was you... And maybe, by thinking it was you, that might make her mad... So mad that she might, I don't know, kiss him just to get back at you... So mad that she would agree to go on another date with him just to spite you--"

House narrowed his eyes, "You knew?"

"What do I do for a living?"

"You knew and you let it happen?" House said in disbelief. "She was mortified."

"I didn't plan the thing; it's not my fault."

"You let her be that embarrassed just so you could get a kiss?"

"No, I did it because like her. I knew if we had both been embarrassed by you then that would give us something else in common, a uniting factor. I wanted another date and thanks to you, I got one."

"This isn't going to end, you know. I'm not going to just give up."

"I know, but I'm not giving up either," the PI grinned, standing. "And I intend on sticking around as long as Lisa lets me."

Lucas began making his way to the door, but before he could open it an old woman in a bright pink track suit flung it open, nearly hitting the PI in the face, and charged inside.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" she yelled, staring at House, throwing her hands up in the air for emphasis. She quickly turned to see Lucas opening the door, attempting to make a run for it. "You!" she said, brandishing a finger at Lucas. "What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"Um, who are you?" Lucas asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Never mind who I am! I'm asking the questions here, thief!"

"Thief?"

"Yes, _thief_! We all know that Dr. Cuddy is Greg's girl! And you went ahead and stole her from him--"

"Ma'am, I don't know who you've been talking to," Lucas said gently, "But Dr. Cuddy isn't dating Dr. House. She's dating me."

"Don't talk to me in that tone! I'm not a silly old woman! I know exactly what I'm talking about! Greg is in love with Lisa--"

"Correction," House interrupted, "I never said I was in lov--"

"Did I say you could speak?" Gladys glared at House. "You owe me over $3,000!" Lucas whistled, which caused the old woman to return her attentions to him. "You," she said pushing a finger into the PI's chest, "Are to leave Dr. Cuddy alone. Understand?"

"House, can you tell your mom leave me alone so I can go?" Lucas said, backing away from Gladys.

"She's not my mother, she's a crazy old broad who lives in the psych wing. She's there for observation. So, if she wants you to stay away from Cuddy, you should. You do not want to know what she did to the last person who didn't listen ot her."

"Oh, hush, you!" Gladys said to House, annoyed. "You," she said to Lucas, "Can go. But stay away from Dr. Cuddy, I don't want to have to tell you again." she finished, putting her hands on her hips.

Lucas inhaled deeply, "I'll see you later, House. Nice to meet you, Ma'am."

"Wish I could say the same," the old woman answered, watching him roll his eyes, open the door and leave.

"Wow, you sure told him," House up his hand. "High five!"

"Put down your hand; there's nothing to celebrate." She frowned as she plopped down in the chair across from his desk. "You've messed things up royally and now it's up to me to help you fix them."

"What do you have in mind?" House said with a smile.

"First we're going to start with you writing a check for $3,745."

House grinned and opened his desk drawer, pulling out an old, beaten checkbook. "Witherspoon, that's got two Os, right?"

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I know this one was short... But, as I said, I've got a lot on my plate for the moment, but I just had to update before episode six. Hope you liked it! Next time: Gladys and House scheme. Will Wilson join in or be a stick in the mud? Have a happy Huddy-filled episode six!


	7. Checkin' It Out

**Author's Note (Part One): **Hello! Long time no type! Sorry about the long break between chapters, but as I said I had to get ready for my sale. Luckily we were all treated to some incredible Huddy episodes, so you probably didn't even miss me. Thanks for your patience waiting for the new chapter and for the continued support in the form of reads, reviews and alerts. You guys are awesome! This chapter is pretty long, so hopefully it makes up for the wait. House, the love his life, his favorite sidekick and their playground belong to David Shore. Gladys does not. She belongs to no man. Enjoy!

* * *

**Checkin' It Out**

_We've got to put our heads together_

_I'm sure that we can work it out_

_I'm weighin' up the situation_

_And checkin' it out_

* * *

One very large check, two locked doors and an hour and a half later, House and Gladys were sitting in the same chairs arguing about the best strategy to separate Cuddy and Lucas.

"Argh!" Gladys yelled in frustration, still trying to get him to admit his feelings. "We're never going to get anywhere when you keep insisting you're doing this for Dr. Cuddy's own good and not because you are secretly in love with her."

"You say love, I say the desire to get in her pants."

"Oh, stop being such an idiot. You're in love with her--"

"Pretty sure I want to see her naked--"

Gladys sighed loudly. "Okay! You want to see her naked, but that doesn't mean you're not in love with her. And I really don't want to waste my time, time I could be spending getting a massage by an attractive young man named Tony, figuring out how to bring you two closer if you're just to keep denying that--"

"Fine. I am willing to admit that I might have some feelings for her that may or may not be of a romantic nature," House mumbled. Gladys beamed at him causing him to roll his eyes in response. "Now can we get back to the task at hand?"

The old woman continued to smile widely, "First things first, we need to find out when there next date is before we can stop it. Unfortunately, it's not like either one of us could find out that information. Dr. Cuddy and that Lucas fellow would be very suspicious if we come around looking for info-- no matter how inconspicuous we're being. Do you know Dr. Cuddy's assistant?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that he would be willing to--"

"We're not on the best of terms. He's never really forgiven me for putting Ex-Lax in his coffee. Apparently, I put too much in and he spent the whole day and night in the men's bathroom."

"What about the nurses in the clinic? Surely, they can find out the information easy. I imagine it wouldn't be hard for one of them to slip in her office and glance at her calendar while she's preoccupied."

"They're not my biggest fans. I might have suggested they clean my laundry... And then left it at the nurse's station until someone took care of it."

Gladys shook her head, "Is there anyone at this hospital who likes you?"

House pretended to rack his brain, "Wilson, most of the time."

"That's it?" House shrugged. "You should be ashamed. What about the doctors who work for you?"

"They wouldn't do it. Too scared of a spanking from mommy."

"Well, it looks like Dr. Wilson will have to help us."

House grimaced, "I don't think he'll be up to it."

"What did you do now?"

"He went with me to the hockey game. I think he's still got his panties in a bunch because I promised him I wouldn't do anything and, well, you know what happened. I guess he didn't appreciate the epic awesomeness of the scoreboard prank."

"He's not alone," she said flatly.

"Can I help it that the two of you don't understand how genius the idea was?"

"It wasn't genius, far from it. Genius ideas don't fail miserably."

"It hit a little snag--"

"It failed. It did not achieve anything except to push Dr. Cuddy and the detective closer together-- which, last time I checked, is the opposite of what you were trying to accomplish."

"It was a good idea," House mumbled, a bit moody.

"No, it wasn't. A good idea would involve you telling her how you feel instead of just sabotaging her dates and praying that she detects your love vibes from across the room."

"Insulting my methods isn't going to get us anywhere," House said jokingly, but also a bit defensively.

"You're absolutely right," she agreed, standing up slowly. "Let's go see Dr. Wilson."

"I already told you that he was pissed--"

"With you."

"You're not exactly his favorite person in the world."

"That may be true, but he seems to be a reasonable fellow. I'm sure if we talk to him, he'll agree to help."

"I don't think--"

"Listen, he's your best friend and he obviously is very fond of Dr. Cuddy. I'm sure he realizes that the two of you are in love with each other. And I'm sure that he'll be happy to help as long as we can convince him that the outcome will be worth whatever risk, guilt and/or temporary moral discomfort he may feel."

She walked to the door and unlocked it, turning around when she noticed House wasn't following her. She raised her eyebrows, "Coming? Or are you just going to sit there?"

House inwardly contemplated the answer, grabbed his cane and crossed to the door. They walked down the hall to Wilson's office.

* * *

Wilson laid down on his couch to take a mid-day nap. It was something he never did, but after the late night with House, compounded by the annoying yapping dog in the apartment next door, he had gotten less than no sleep. He had just fallen asleep when he was woken by a series of sharp knocks on the door.

"Busy," Wilson said, knowing House was on the other side. "Sleeping off the stupidity bug I caught last night at the game." The knocking continued, morphing into Keith Moon's solo from 'Baba O'Riley.' Wilson groaned loudly and put a pillow over his face to muffle the sound. Recognizing that House wouldn't go away and realizing that the pillow wasn't very good sound-proofing, Wilson got up, tossed the cushion back on the couch and answered the door.

"You didn't let me get to the end of my drum solo," House whined, stepping into the office, followed closely by Gladys. House plopped on the couch, Gladys sat down in a chair while Wilson shut the door, exhaled sharply and retreated to his desk chair.

"To what do I owe this unwelcome interruption?" Wilson asked wearily. "I assume it has something to do with Cuddy since you brought your little partner-in-crime along," he finished with a frown.

"Don't worry, you'll always be my number one sidekick," House said as Wilson rubbed his eyes.

"House, I'm not in the mood. I haven't had any sleep and I only have an hour to take a nap before I am stuck in appointments for the rest of the day."

"You, you, you-- is that all you care about? What about _me_?"

"I don't have time for your lunacy right now--"

"You just said you have an hour--"

"For a _nap,_ not for scheming."

"But scheming is more fun. Plus, it's not you're going to get any sleep if I leave," House grinned; Wilson shook his head.

"Listen, I'm not going to help you make Cuddy miserable--"

"Dr. Wilson," Gladys interrupted, "Do you think you will hear us out before you make up your mind _not _to help us?"

Wilson sighed, "I'm not promising anything."

"How come you're siding with Cuddy all of the sudden?"

"She's my friend--"

"But _I'm_ your best friend. _Come on_. Pimps up, hos down." Gladys shot him a look.

"She's my friend and I don't want to do anything to her or help you do anything to her that might cause her to be unhappy. She deserves something good in her life outside of the hospital."

"And that's what we're trying to do!" Gladys said emphatically.

Wilson looked skeptical, "Are you implying that _House_ is the something good?"

"Why not?" she replied defiantly.

"Well, for starters he can't actually bring himself to say that he wants her. He'll nod, he doesn't deny it any more, but he won't actually come out and say it--"

"That's not true. Why, just earlier in his office he admitted that he had feelings for her."

"What did he say _exactly_?"

"What does it matter what he said exactly? All that matters is that he admitted--"

Wilson looked from Gladys to House and raised his eyebrows, inviting a response from his friend.

"I said I have feelings for her that may or may not be of a romantic nature."

"You see?" Wilson said, redirecting his attention to Gladys.

"_What_? What's wrong with that?" House asked defensively.

"You're not actually admitting anything!"

"Yesterday when I nodded my head--"

"Not good enough--"

"It was good enough_ yesterday_," House said, irritated.

"That was yesterday," Wilson responded mysteriously.

"What could have possibly changed in less than 24 hours?"

"I talked to Cuddy--"

House leaned forward, interested, "You talked to Cuddy about me?"

"Yes and--"

"What did she say? Did she talk about the hockey game? Why did she kiss Lucas? How--"

"She said unless you actually say the words, it doesn't count."

"Yes, it does. It counts," House griped.

"She said she's tired of always being the one to do all the work. You have to do something. She said that if you can't tell me that you like her, then you'll never tell her."

"She's right," Gladys agreed.

"Come on, Gladys! You're supposed to be on my side! Some partner-in-crime you are," House said.

"I _am_ on your side. Didn't you hear what Dr. Wilson said? You sabotaging her dates is not enough--"

"I didn't say—"

"You have to say it out loud to us and then after Lucas is out of the picture--"

Wilson frowned, " I _know_ I didn't say_ anything_ about doing _anything_ to Lucas--"

"Then you have to tell her! You have to tell her how you feel because she is not going to do it for you. You're going to have to make the move."

"I do think you need to tell her how you feel, but I don't think you should do anything else to her when she's on a date. It always ends up working against you," Wilson warned.

"So, what you're saying is that we get rid of Lucas and then I ask her out?" House raised a brow quizzically.

"No," Wilson said emphatically.

"Yes!" Gladys yelled over Wilson.

"Ok," House replied, "Let's git 'er done."

Wilson stood up and leaned over the desk. "House, you can't be serious! Interfering with another date would spell disaster. You have got to just tell her how you feel without torturing her or the PI. I know it'll be hard, but the outcome will be a lot better if you don't do anything underhanded."

House pretended to be conflicted. "I... think I'm going to go with Gladys' suggestion."

"Oh, good!" the old lady responded happily.

"I give up," Wilson said throwing up his hands in surrender. "You two are on your own."

"No, you can't do that! We need your help!" Gladys exclaimed.

"No way am I helping you ruin another one of Lisa's dates," Wilson said shaking his head.

"You're going to abandon me now in my neediest time of neediness?" House pouted.

"That's exactly what I plan to do," Wilson said. "Now if you both will leave, I can get a little more than a half an hour of sleep--"

"Dr. Wilson," Gladys interrupted, "All we need is for you to look at Dr. Cuddy's datebook--"

"Her computer password is partypants, all lowercase," House interjected.

"Wait. How do you know her password?" Wilson asked, worried. "Do you know my password?"

"Of course not, j2e28w69," Wilson looked at him horrified. "Can we concentrate on the matter at hand?"

"I am changing my password as soon as you two psych patients return to the ward--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gladys, continue, please," House said.

"Like I said, all you have to do is look in her datebook and find out when and where her next date is with that Lucas fellow. That's _it_."

"And how would I explain to Lisa needing to look at her computer?"

"She wouldn't be in the room," House said. "Duh. I would create a distraction."

"She would see right through it. She'd see me sneaking in her office or her assistant would tell her and then--"

"Think about it," House said, bothered by Wilson's lack of foresight. "You would already be in her office, for some reason or another. I go into the clinic, cause a scene, she comes out to take care of me, Gladys keeps the assistant busy with small talk, you check her computer, then you leave the office when you're done on the pretense of not having enough time to wait, I finish my scene, Gladys leaves, we have the information and she's none the wiser."

Wilson's brow was furled, deep in thought, "It could work. As long as.... Wait. What am I saying? I'm not helping you. You're on your own. Have Gladys wait for Cuddy."

"She'd be suspicious of Gladys," House said simply.

"You can't blame her really," Gladys said sympathetically.

"I'm not going to--"

"What if Greg says it?" Gladys asked excitedly.

"There's nothing he could say--"

"What if he says it out loud right now. To you and to me. Then would you be willing to help us?" Gladys questioned.

"Well--" Wilson started.

"Say what?" House asked, clueless.

"What if he admits his feelings without being vague or ambiguous? What if he honestly tells us how he feels and asks you to help him? Then would you?"

Wilson narrowed his eyes and looked at House, "If he admits it, then I'm in, but only to find out the details of the date not to help ruin it."

"Great!" Gladys exclaimed. "Alright. Greg?" The old lady and Wilson looked at House expectantly. He looked back at them with raised eyebrows.

"I never agreed to say anything," House said.

"Of course not," Wilson mumbled under his breath.

"You listen to me, Gregory," Gladys began in her most motherly tone. "You are going to admit your feelings and you are going to ask Dr. Wilson to help because he is the only one who can get you the information you need--"

"I'm sure I can bribe a janitor--"

"_No_," the old woman said forcefully. "You will _not_ bribe a janitor. You will say it out loud to the two of us and then you will say it out loud to Dr. Cuddy when the time comes. You are going to stop being so ridiculous and stupid and you are going to tell the truth. Do you hear me?"

"You're not my mother. And even if you were you wouldn't be able to bully me into--"

"So help me if you don't admit it I will hit you so hard that by the time you come down you'll need a passport and a plane ticket back!"

"Threats aren't going to work," House said, propping his feet up leisurely on the sofa.

"Admit it and I'll tear up your check."

"You're going to bribe me into admiting my true feelings?" House asked.

"Yes," Gladys answered, frustrated.

"Cool," House stood up and looked at Wilson. "Will you please help me?"

"_And_?" Gladys said.

"And I..." House took a deep breath and then spoke very quickly. "I like Cuddy. Ok? I like her a lot. Good enough?" Both House and Gladys looked at Wilson.

"Fine. I'll help," Wilson said. "But you're going to have to figure out something a little more substantial to say to Cuddy when you tell her."

"Of course he is," Gladys added. "That's not nearly good enough for Dr. Cuddy."

"Everyone's a critic," House complained.

"If we're going to do this, let's do it now. I've got an appointment in 30 minutes."

Gladys hopped up, went to the door and flung it open. "Let's go then," she said enthusiasically, exiting the office and taking the lead.

Wilson and House left and followed the old woman down the corridor to the elevators. House looked forward, face screwed up in concentration and took a deep breath. "What if.... what if I tell her and she... what if she doesn't..."

"Don't worry," Wilson said as they reached the elevators. "She does."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I hope you liked it! I'm shooting for another update next week, but since I have another craft show to prepare for the next chapter could come later. On the upside, I have much less stuff to make for this one so if the chapter is postponed it won't be for long. Next time: House provides a diversion, Wilson gets information and Cuddy gives a certain doctor a lecture about interfering in her dates.


	8. Jackie Wilson Said

**Author's Note (Part One): **I know it's been longer than I thought it would be between updates. I hope you can forgive me. A big thanks and lots of hugs go out to everyone who is reading, alerting and reviewing-- it's like hot chocolate and rice krispie treats! This chapter's pretty long as well, so hopefully that makes up for the extra wait time. I had fun writing this one-- I hope House and Cuddy aren't too OOC at one part (you know how that worries me). There's a little bit of** dialogue/action **(sorry, not sex) that's intended **for mature audiences only** (it's not that graphic to me, in my opinion it falls in the 'House being House' category, but I don't think the FCC would let it happen on the show), so **continue reading at your own peril**. I'm changing the rating only for this chapter. Thanks again and enjoy! The characters below belong to David Shore and Co. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**Jackie Wilson Said**

_Kind of love you got,_

_Knock me off my feet,_

_Oh, let it all hang out._

_And you know, I'm so wired up,_

_Don't need no coffee in my cup,_

_Let it all hang out._

* * *

"This is so exciting!" Gladys whispered loudly as she carefully glanced from around the wall into the clinic. She was trying to inconspicuously spy on Cuddy in order to let Wilson know when the Dean had left the nurse's desk and returned to her office, but was failing to go completely unnoticed by several of the nursing staff and a few curious patients.

"I don't know," Wilson sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the wall. "Maybe we should rethink this."

"What do you mean rethink this?" Gladys asked, spinning around the face the oncologist.

House rolled his eyes, "We're not rethinking anything. We're proceeding as planned."

"I don't think I should be enabling this madness," Wilson mumbled loudly. "If she... When she realizes my part in this, she won't be happy."

"Stop being such a pussy," House said, irritated. "She won't find out. And even if she does, by some miracle, piece it together, don't worry. By then I'll be giving her the good stuff and she won't care."

"Giving her the good stuff?" Wilson repeated incredulously. "_Giving her the good stuff?_"

"You don't know what 'giving her the good stuff' means?" Gladys asked. "Would you like me to tell you what it means?"

"I know what is means," Wilson said quickly before the old woman had a chance to explain. "I just can't believe anyone over the age of 25 would use that phrase."

"Fine," House said. "How about slipping her the sausage? Go pile-driving? Poking her through the whiskers? Sinking my battleship into her great divide? Taking her temperature with a meat thermometer? Playing hide the hamster? Sheltering under the pink umbrella? Driving the pink love bus into tuna town? Sheathing the sword to the hilt--"

"I get it. Please stop before I come to my senses and realize helping you can bring me nothing but trouble and Lisa nothing but misery."

"She's going into her office!" Gladys interrupted, filled with anticipation.

"Okay, but before I go in, I just want to make sure we're on the same page--"

"We are," House interrupted.

"I'm going to talk to Cuddy about another fund-raiser for the Oncology department which I was going to--"

"It doesn't matter what you're going to talk to her about," House broke in impatiently. "Just go in, talk to her, I'll cause a commotion, she'll come out, Gladys will try to stop her by pretending to shield me from Cuddy's wrath, Cuddy will push past Gladys, have it out with me, Gladys will keep the assistant busy and you will get the information from her computer, when you're done you'll come out--"

"Right, because I'll have an appointment--"

"Whatever you want to tell her. I'll finish and Gladys will stick around to talk to Cuddy to make it seem like it wasn't a set-up."

"Okay," Wilson nodded his head slowly.

"Well! Go on!" Gladys cajoled him. "Hurry up before she leaves her office."

* * *

"Knock, knock," Wilson said as he opened the door to Cuddy's office.

She looked up and smiled, "You're not here to talk about House, are you?"

"Nope," Wilson said, holding up his hands in surrender and entering, letting the door close behind him. "No pleasure, strictly business."

"Business, huh?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "I don't know if I believe you."

"I can't say that I blame you. I want you to know that I heard what you said about House and completely understand--"

"Uh-huh," Cuddy said skeptically.

"I promise to back off... at least for the meantime."

"I appreciate it," she said, then motioning to a seat in front of her desk. "What would you like to talk about?"

"The Oncology benefit. I meant to talk to you about it this morning, but... uh... got sidetracked."

"Why don't we go down to the cafeteria, grab a coffee and talk it over?"

Wilson grimaced slightly, "I'd like to, but I have an appointment in a little over twenty minutes. Maybe we can just go over the budget and brainstorm a little then get together later in the week to discuss the event in detail?"

"That's fine with me." Cuddy turned her attention to her computer, "Let me just bring up the current budget. I think we have $7,000 to work with, but I want to make sure."

"Wow? Really? That's almost twice as much as last year."

"We received a large check from a generous donor for over $10,000. He's very passionate about cancer research and treatment; I thought we'd put his money to use in the Oncology department," Cuddy said with a wide smile.

Wilson blushed, "That was nice of you."

"Not as...." Cuddy's voice tapered off as she heard noise coming from out outside her office doors. Wilson turned around in his chair, she got up and made her way around the desk as her assistant entered the room, worried.

"Tom, what's going on out there?" Cuddy asked, making strides to the door.

"It's Dr. House. He's... Well, he's... He's...." the assistant sputtered.

"_He's...?_ Tom, spit it out."

"He's causing a scene--"

Wilson stood up, "Lisa, do you want me to go and--"

"No," she said forcefully. "I'll handle it and be back to finish our conversation momentarily." With that she pushed past her assistant into her outer office where she was met by an unwelcome Gladys Witherspoon.

"Dr. Cuddy!" Gladys exclaimed rather excitedly. "How are you?"

Cuddy looked out, past the old woman's head, into the clinic where House was standing on a chair waving something above his head while Nurse Brenda was yelling at him. "Mrs. Witherspoon, I really don't have the time to--"

"Of course you do, dear! It will only take a quick second," Gladys interrupted, nervously glancing back behind her. "I just wanted to speak with you about another donation--"

Cuddy kept her eyes on House, who was gathering an entranced crowd, while trying to concentrate on the donor's words, "Maybe you could come back another time when we're able to--"

"No," Gladys said hastily. "No, now is a much better for me. Couldn't you just spare a few moments of your time?"

"I would love to, but--" Cuddy swore she heard House say her name. "But I really have to attend to the commotion in the clinic. Tom!" Her assistant rushed forward ready to do whatever she commanded.

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Can you talk with Mrs. Witherspoon about her donation and address all her concerns while I deal with Dr. House?"

"Of course," Tom said, eager to please.

"Great!"

"Oh, but I really would rather--" Gladys began.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Witherspoon--"

"Gladys, dear, Gladys."

"You're in excellent hands, Gladys. Tom is very capable. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Oh! Are--" But before Gladys could finish her sentence Cuddy was out the double doors and into the clinic.

* * *

Wilson watched as Cuddy exited the office and Tom sat down at his desk to deal with Gladys. When he saw the old woman's thumbs up sign behind her back he knew it was safe to slowly make his way around Lisa's desk and log-in to her computer.

He tentatively took a seat in Cuddy's chair and tapped the keyboard quickly so the screensaver would dissolve. Though he could still hear House in the clinic, he was paranoid and desperate not to get caught, so he kept glancing up every few seconds.

Taking a deep breath, Wilson moved the mouse away from the budget document Lisa had pulled up a few minutes before, quickly clicked on the calendar icon along the bottom of her screen, typed in her password and went in search of a date.

* * *

"_House!_" He grinned as he heard the temper and passion in Cuddy's voice and slowly turned to face his boss. She was always at her most beautiful, most radiant when she was possessed with anger. "Get off the chair and stop waving around whatever you--"

"Come on, Cuddles. Don't pretend that you don't notice them!" he exclaimed loudly, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd of hospital staff surrounding him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know—"

"You're hurting my feelings!" House cried dramatically. "I can't believe you don't remember the night you gave me these." He stopped waving around the small piece of red fabric and unfolded it, holding it high above his head, to reveal the thong she had given Cole months ago.

Cuddy turned a bright shade of scarlet, too shocked to do anything but stutter. "House, you... Get down... This is a_ hospital_... Stop--"

House took an exaggerated deep whiff of the red fabric and sighed, "They even still smell like you--"

Cuddy's mouth dropped open, momentarily speechless. Luckily, Brenda took over, "House, you jackass! No one believes those are Dr. Cuddy's underwear. Now get down, shut up and stop acting like a unpopular teenage boy that just went on a panty raid."

"Thank you, Brenda. Nice to know someone in this office as sense. Now, get down, House, and get back to work," Cuddy added, recovering from her temporary coma. "And throw those away. There's no telling where you got them--"

"You know exactly where I got these from," House said. "You gave them to me after you rode me like I was the last--"

"_House!_"

"Dick that your--"

"House! I did not have sex with you!" Cuddy yelled, pulling at House's leg so he would get down.

"You don't have to undress me in the waiting room of the clinic!" House said, shakily jumping down off the chair. "We can go to an exam room if you want to get it on--"

"Shut up!' Cuddy said, smacking House's chest. She stood close to him and futilely tried to grab the underwear, but couldn't reach them as he was still holding them over his head. He chuckled as he watched her stretch, standing on her tip-toes as long as her heels would allow her.

Exhaling forcefully, her expression furious, Cuddy stepped towards House so there was only an inch of space between them and whispered threateningly, "If you don't give me the underwear and leave the clinic quietly, I will squeeze your balls until they pop."

"Wow," House replied loudly and in awe, "The spankings, the dirty talk, the bondage, the role play, the swallowing, I didn't think it could get any better. But a threesome? You might be the perfect woman."

Cuddy, unable to control her anger, grabbed House's cane and hit the hand holding the panties, hard. "Ow!" House yelled as his hand instinctively opened and dropped the underwear to the floor. Cuddy, not wasting any time, tossed the cane to the floor, quickly snatched the thong off the ground and took off toward the exit that led to the dumpsters.

"Hey! Those belong to me!" House said, picking up his cane and hobbling down the hall after her, heads following them and the fight, whispers wondering if House was telling the truth.

* * *

Cuddy was fast in her heels, but House was taller and with the amount of Vicodin he had taken earlier in the day in preparation for this moment, was feeling no pain. Much to the Dean's dismay, her diagnostician caught the back of her jacket right before she reached the exit. House, unaware of the strength with which he was tugging on Cuddy's jacket, pulled her toward him, causing her to lose her balance, fall backward into him, causing him to lose his balance, causing them to end up in a pile on the floor.

"Aaah!" Cuddy screamed as they toppled down, somehow House landing on top of her. "House, get off of me!" she yelled, pushing him to the side.

"My pleasure. just give me back the thong--" he said, struggling to keep her pinned under him while he searched for the lacy fabric."

"House!" she yelled, as she squirmed under him, batting him with the right hand while her left held onto her underwear tightly. "Oh my god, get your hand off of my breast!"

"I will as soon as you return my property to me," House said casually, but winded as Cuddy was trying to get her legs free so she could kick her hostage-taker.

"Your property?! It doesn't belong to you!" Cuddy hissed.

"It was given to me," House replied, moving his hand from Cuddy's boob to her left hand.

"It was not!" Cuddy said, moving her fist frantically to fight House's grip.

"Yes it was! You gave it to the Mormon and he gave it to me!" he said while trying to pry her fingers open with his right hand.

"Yes, I gave it to _him_ not to _you_--"

"Oh, please," House rolled his eyes, prying open the last two fingers. "You knew the reason he needed the thong. You knew he was going to give them to me. You wanted me to have them--"

"Don't be ridiculous, I didn't--"

House grabbed the underwear and began to pull. "Yes, you did. You wanted me to have your panties--"

"I wanted to win. I wanted--"

"Admit it! You gave me your thong because you want me--"

Suddenly Cuddy stopped moving and House was able to snatch the underwear from his boss' limp grasp as they heard footsteps approaching and a familiar soft chuckle.

"You know, when Brenda said that you two were rolling around on the floor I didn't believe her."

Cuddy placed a hand over her face. "Does everyone... Did the staff see--"

"Only a few people. Brenda did a pretty good job of keeping everyone out of the corridor. You're lucky not a lot of people have a reason to come down this hall," Wilson said, not able to suppress a smile.

Cuddy shoved House off her as violently as possible and stood up.

"Was it good for you?" House smirked from the ground as he put the red thong into his jacket pocket and stood up, struggling. Cuddy straightened her skirt and brushed it off.

Wilson cleared his throat and looked down as he addressed Cuddy, "Lisa, your shirt."

Cuddy looked down horrified to see that half of the buttons on her blouse had popped open revealing her lacy pink bra. House grinned, "Cool. I can _totally_ see your nipples through your bra." Cuddy turned with her back to House, Wilson and the rest of the hospital and frantically began to button her shirt.

"Lisa, I'm going to go to my appointment. I hope it's alright if we talk about the cancer benefit later--"

"Of course, James. Sorry that I... That I had--"

Wilson smiled at Cuddy as she turned around to face him, mortified. "No problem. I'll see you later." He turned to leave down the hall, calling back over his shoulder, "House, it might be a good time to stop pissing off your boss so she doesn't fire you."

"She can't fire me," House yelled back at him. "I have tenure."

Cuddy began to leave, without so much as a parting glance in House's direction when he reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hey, don't you want your undergarment back?" he asked with a smirk.

She swung around angrily, "Keep them because the only way you're going to be getting another pair is if you steal them from my house--"

"Now, don't make any promises you don't intend to keep," House said huskily.

"And another thing," she said, poking him in the chest with her finger. "The next time you get the bright idea to interfere on or with of my dates, don't. Because if I see you, hear you--"

"You love when I interfere. You want me to ruin all of your dates because you secretly would rather be out with me than with--"

"--Or even sense that you are anywhere near where I am on a date I'll call up every prostitute in the state and tell them you have three STDs, one so potent it melts through condoms--"

"And you have every hooker's number because there's some kind of union you all belong to?" he said with a laugh.

"My boyfriend's a PI. I'm sure he'll be glad to help," Cuddy said as she began to walk back down the hall.

House's mood instantly soured. "He's your boyfriend now? You've been on, what, one date?" he asked as she walked away, ignoring him, passing Gladys on her way down the corridor.

* * *

Gladys reached House and waited until Cuddy turned the corner into the clinic before saying anything.

"Well? How did it go?"

"Fine," House replied moodily, limping fast up the hallway. "Let's go get the information from Wilson." Gladys remained stationary while House continued on his path toward the clinic. "Are you coming?"

"What's wrong?" Gladys asked as she scurried to catch up with House.

"Nothing," he mumbled as they made their way to the elevators. "It's just going to be a little trickier than I envisioned."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **Well, there it is! Hope you liked it! I _have _to update my next story before I update this one again plus I have my other sale this weekend, so bear with me if it's a couple of weeks before the next update (hopefully, it won't be, though). Next time: Wilson gives the info and some unwanted advice. House and Gladys plot. And happy Huddy for the next episode (it looks like it's going to be legnen... wait for it... dary!)!


End file.
